


Thanksgiving is Love

by merry_amelie



Series: Academic Arcadia [206]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-19
Updated: 2013-11-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 15:24:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4397117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke-Loves lives up to its name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thanksgiving is Love

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
> 
> For  
> My beta team: Nerowill, Emila-Wan, and Carol  
> Mali Wane for posting  
> My former betas: Alex, Ula, and Padawan Sue
> 
> A related story -- [The Milestone Banquet](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4312131)  
>   
> Thanksgivings we've celebrated with our lads:  
>   
> [Thanksgiving Kisses](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1798084)  
> [A Paduan Thanksgiving](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1907886)  
> [The Holiday Table](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4140567)  
> [A Place at the Table](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4209198)  
> [Thanksgiving Reverie](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4397039)  
>   
> To Helen

This year, the Wednesday before Thanksgiving was a special one for Luke-Loves. Leave it to Quinn the Compassionate to suggest that they start a yearly tradition of holding a Thanksgiving celebration, open to everyone. That way, the folks who were not accepted by their families had a cheery holiday to celebrate anyway. He and Ian volunteered to take the leftovers to Luke Chapel, so Father Lucasse and his priests could distribute care packages to those who needed them.  
  
The organization had requisitioned the Luke Convention Hall, where he and Ian had celebrated Quinn's 10th anniversary Milestone Banquet three years ago. The hall was a wing of Wookly Center, a fifteen-minute walk from their office at their customary brisk pace.  
  
They had a complicated schedule that week, designed to equalize teaching hours over the course of the semester. This Wednesday, they had followed their usual Friday schedule, so they were finished teaching at the end of Fourth Period, at 3 pm.  
  
Their classes that day had been lightly attended, with many of the students already leaving for home, to maximize the length of their Thanksgiving Break. Quinn waited for Ian outside Classroom CR90 in Tanteven Square, so they could walk back to their office together. They strode through the Quadrangle, relaxed in only the way an upcoming four-day vacation could leave them.  
  
Instead of throngs of students surrounding them, there were only a few stragglers scurrying through the yard, anxious to get home for the holiday. Emboldened by their relative privacy, Quinn took Ian's hand, after briefcases were automatically switched to their free hands.  
  
It was a blustery afternoon near the end of November, and they were glad of their corduroy jackets to shield them from the wind. Somehow, the feel of each other's fingers brought with it even more warmth.  
  
Case hurried past them on the way to his office, waving as he said, "I'll see you later at the dinner. Billie and I would like to be seated at your table."  
  
"You've got it, Case. We'll meet you both at the reception area at five o'clock," answered Ian, his voice carried along by the breeze.  
  
"I'm so glad they're coming to our very first feast. They've always been so supportive," said Quinn, the fondness in his voice for his friends making him sound even more mellow than his usual holiday lilt did.  
  
By the time they arrived at Taton Hall, they were ready for some mocha lattes. Ian got the skim milk carton from the secretaries' refrigerator and brought it back to their office. Using the Baby Gaggia Kathy and Monty had given them as an engagement present, Quinn whipped up lattes for Ian and himself.  
  
They probably should have canceled their office hours that afternoon, since nobody showed up anyway. At least they got a head start on their coursework for Monday while they waited for the period to end.  
  
Ian was cheered on by Quinn when he threw the outlines for his old lecture notes into the blue recycle bin by the door. He 'shot 1000', earning the loudest cheer of all from his husband, even though basketball was not really his sport. Ian gave Quinn a cute little bow of acknowledgement from his chair, looking endearingly like a Jedi apprentice, particularly with the cream shirt he happened to have on.  
  
After their office hours were over, Ian shut and locked the door with a satisfying click. He gambled that not even Quinn would object to a little Thanksgiving kiss, especially since it was more like Halloween on campus now -- a ghost town.  
  
Ian ambled over to his guid-man's desk and rested a hip against its cherrywood. "What are you thankful for this year, handsome?" he asked playfully, obviously expecting a compliment.  
  
Quinn pretended to think for a moment. "Well, there's the time off...." he teased back.  
  
"Hey!" The sound Ian made was a cross between a chuckle and a squawk.  
  
Quinn smiled as he rose from his chair. "And of course the parties..." he continued to tease.  
  
Ian's sound effects doubled in volume, especially when Quinn pulled him to his feet and hugged him to his chest.  
  
"And then there's the amazing laddie in my arms," he said, finally giving Ian his real answer.  
  
Ian snuggled into him, teasing easily forgotten in the warmth of Quinn's embrace. He reached up for a kiss, to show Quinn his own thankfulness.  
  
Returning the kiss, with compound interest, Quinn clearly knew when to suspend their office code of behavior.  
  
So Ian got just what he'd wanted -- a holiday kiss. He basked contentedly in Quinn's arms, knowing that they had at least half an hour until the Luke-Loves festivities would begin.  
  
"You've started a wonderful new tradition, my love," said Ian, "one that will help a lot of folks."  
  
"Should've thought of it years ago," Quinn said ruefully.  
  
"Hard to see the obvious is," intoned Ian sagely, channeling his inner Master Yoda. He was glad to hear that his impression had its desired effect -- a Quinn chuckle.  
  
"Hard to see anyone but you, laddie," said a thoroughly besotted Quinn, as he kissed his herven again.  
  
It was Ian's turn to chuckle, a sound which Quinn translated into his complete delight at the unexpected extra kiss. And he was right.  
  
They put on their jackets for the walk to Wookly Center and carried their overcoats, as well. By the time the party was over, it would be nighttime and frosty-cold. Ian was the one who closed and locked their office door again.  
  
As they stepped out into the empty corridor, Quinn said, "Let's stop by the bakery on the way home, lad." He flopped an arm over Ian's shoulders. "We've got to bring your mom that vanilla rum cake she liked so much last year."  
  
"Something makes me think a certain oversized hobbit might enjoy it, too." Ian's laugh made him sound like a well-fed hobbit himself, after an elevenses filled with freshly baked poppy-seed cakes.  
  
"And speaking of treats, your kiss made for a scrumptious appetizer, m'laddie." Quinn cuddled Ian to him as they strolled towards the main entrance, the only door still open at this hour on Thanksgiving Eve.  
  
As they headed out into the welcoming dusk on their way to the Convention Hall, the joy of sharing Thanksgiving with their chosen family at Luke-Loves made the autumn starscape shine all the brighter.


End file.
